In the Dark of the Night
by See Jane Write
Summary: Frasier fears that Roz's boyfriend is abusing her. FrasierRoz.
1. Chapter 1

In the Dark of the Night

Summary: Frasier fears that Roz's boyfriend is abusing her. Frasier/Roz.

Disclaimer: Nothing's mine for I am young.

* * *

"Ok, Casey, just stay on the line. I'm sure there are many things about your son that would cause you to-" Frasier Crane continued on his show.

"Um, this is Meredith," the caller interrupted. The annoyance in her voice was painfully obvious. "The one with the issues about my boyfriend," she reminded Frasier in the same tone.

Frasier looked slightly confused and glanced over at Roz. Perhaps his producer was playing some sort of prank on him. No, that was not the case, Frasier noted upon seeing his producer lying fast asleep with her head against the console. "Um, I'm afraid we're having technical difficulties," Frasier began lamely as he started playing the longest commercial he could find.

As soon as he was off the air, he removed his headphones and rushed over towards Roz. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and whispered her name. "Roz?" He got nothing. He sighed, trying not to think about why Roz was so tired but instead think of a way to wake her. He moved a small piece of hair away from her face and called her name again.

Frasier frowned in slight frustration. He knew Roz had a social life with over the men half of the Seattle metropolitan area, but she also had a job that would require her to be awake. He moved in a little closer to her face and noticed for the first time a few light bruises on her cheek and forehead. As Roz turned in her sleep, he noticed there was another one. None of them looked very dark, but they were still present on Roz's slightly pale face.

"Roz," he called out even louder as he began gently shaking her shoulders. He instantly stopped and gently moved her shirt so that he could see her shoulders. He wanted to be sure that he was not pressing on any other bruises or other wounds. "Roz," he called again.

She was scaring him now. She would not wake up. Come to think of it, she missed a day of work the previous week. She sounded too vague for why she was at home, too. "Roz," he repeated her name soothingly.

Before he could say another word, Bulldog came into Roz's booth. "Doc, you know you have dead air, right?" he asked. He took one look at the sleeping Roz and the concerned Frasier. "What's going on?" he asked.

Frasier groaned at first as he was annoyed to see Bulldog standing there. He then smiled. "Bulldog, perfect," he said.

"Are you trying to pull me into your little sex game?" Bulldog asked. "'Cause if it means I can sleep with her, I'm in," he added.

Frasier shook his head. "No, you're not going to be in our non-existent sex game. I need you to cover my show. Just say it's a personal problem."

Bulldog shrugged as he walked into the other booth. He grabbed the microphone. "Hey, sports fans," he announced. "The doc had to leave in order to fool around with his producer, so I'm here."

Frasier groaned as he grabbed the microphone in Roz's booth. "Bulldog, we both know that's not true," he stated plainly.

"Right," Bulldog said with a laugh. "Roz would never sleep with you."

Frasier rolled his eyes but wisely decided not to comment further. His focus was back on Roz. His producer was still asleep and unaware of the events happening around her. He frowned, not wanting to shake her at the risk of putting his hands above some other injury she had carefully covered with her long sleeve shirt and pants.

Frasier looked around the booth for something- anything - that could be used to wake her. He finally gathered the papers in front of her and fanned them back and forth in front of her face in hopes that the cool air would wake her. He kept at it for a few minutes and sure enough Roz's eyes began fluttering open.

"Roz?" he asked again as he placed the papers down. He gently smoothed out his producer's hair. "What's going on?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"W-what do you mean?" Roz asked innocently. "Look, I'm sorry I fell asleep there. Alice, um, kept me up last night. She is teething now."

"Roz, you and I both know that Alice is not the reason you're so tired right now," Frasier said as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I saw you."

Roz smiled weakly as she acted as if she had no clue as to what was going on. "And I see you," she began. "Frasier, what is going on here?"

"I could ask you the same question, Roz," Frasier told her. He knelt down in front of her and held a mirror up to her face. "You know what you're looking at," he said. "I counted four of them the left side of your face and shoulders alone."

"Oh, god," Roz quickly exclaimed. "Zits? I-I-I can't be getting a zit. I have a date tonight." Her eyes were refusing to meet Frasier's. Frasier was a psychologist. He could probably see through her phony behavior.

"Roz," Frasier warned.

"It's true," Roz insisted. "It's with this, um, really top A-list guy around Seattle. We're going to one of your fancy-ass French restaurants."

Frasier stroked Roz's cheek gently. "If you need me, you know I'll always be here for you," he told her. He wanted to hug her, but he knew he should not. He did not know entirely what was going on. He just knew that Roz was not ready to admit to it yet. He just had to show his support.

Roz smiled weakly at Frasier. "I know," she said softly.

The clock flashed 1:35 AM. The first thing Frasier became aware of was the phone ringing. Has his ring always been set so high? Who would be calling him at this hour? He fearfully answered the phone. News in the middle of the night could only be described as bad. "Hello?" he asked as he fought back the urge to yawn.

"Is this Frasier Crane?" the voice at the other end asked.

"Yes, this is," Frasier said exhaustedly. "Who is this?"

"This is Jane Mirotsky, a nurse at Seattle General Hospital," she answered. "I have Roz and Alice Doyle in here, and you're listed as the emergency contact."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Frasier immediately hung up the phone. He turned on his lights. After adjusting to having them on, he walked to his dresser and grabbed a shirt. He did not care if it was ironed or not. He threw a pair of jeans on over his legs and started rushing for the door. He grabbed his keys from the bowl beside the main door and left. He did not think he needed anything else. He frowned, rushed back inside, grabbed his wallet, and then rushed back to the elevator.

He was worried. Worried for Roz, for Alice. He should not have let them leave that night. He should have forced Roz to stay over at his place. Daphne certainly would not have minded. There were many things he could have done. He just did not know why he did not. He was mad at himself.

In his anger, he almost drove past the hospital. He caught his mistake and sharply turned into the parking lot. He parked and rushed inside. "Roz Doyle," he said. "I'm looking for Roz Doyle," he panted.

"She's upstairs," the nurse said. She glanced into the waiting room. It was pretty empty. "I'll take you there," she offered.

Frasier thanked her as he began following her down the hallways. The hallways were quiet. Haunting. He heard the faint humming sounds from machines. He sensed sadness from the patients. No one wanted to be there. He was included in that group, but he refused to leave until he knew what was happening with Roz and Alice. He had to stay for their sake. They were part of his family.

The elevator was equally as quiet. There was no music. There were no other people. Frasier was alone. He did not like that feeling. He had to break off the silence. He did not care what the topic was. There just had to be some form of conversation. "So, um, did you catch the Sea Hawks game last night?"

The nurse raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you attempting a normal conversation?"

"What gave me away?" Frasier asked.

"The fact that it's almost March. There has been no football anywhere for the past month," the nurse informed him. She turned and looked up at Frasier. "Don't worry," she said soothingly. "I get it all the time. You just don't want to talk about the actual reason why you're here."

Frasier frowned. Was he that transparent? "Were you on her case?" he asked. "Did you treat her?"

The nurse shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said honestly. "I was running Triage. Roz was actually ambulanced in." The elevator doors opened and the two of them began walking down the halls. The nurse spotted Roz's doctor. "But there's Dr. Bowers. He can tell you everything you need to know."

Frasier again thanked her and rushed to the doctor. "Roz Doyle?" he asked. "I'm Frasier Crane. What happened? Will she and Alice be ok?"

The doctor started leading Frasier down the halls. They seemed the same as the ones downstairs. They had the same smell, the same exterior look. Frasier hated it. Roz was not a hospital person. "Alice is fine," the doctor said. "Hardly a scratch on her."

"And Roz?" Frasier questioned frantically. He knew how doctors worked. He completed medical school. Doctors almost always started with the good news, especially of the bad news was really bad.

The doctor sighed heavily. "She came in to be treated for a broken ankle and a bad cut on her forehead," he explained to Frasier. "Upon further examination, we realized that she also a couple of broken ribs. I want to keep her overnight, and then you can take her home tomorrow."

Frasier's mouth dropped open. He could not imagine the pain Roz was in right now. He wanted to see her, to hold her, to make her feel better. "Did she say how this happened?" he asked. "Who did this to her?"

The doctor shook his head. "We've been trying to find that out all evening. She won't give it up."

"Can I see her?" Frasier asked.

The doctor nodded as he pushed the door to Roz's room open. It was a semi-private room, but Roz was the only actual patient in there. Alice was asleep in the first bed. Frasier thought he heard sniffling from the other bed. He turned his head further, and his suspicions were confirmed. Roz was awake and in pain. He knew it instantly.

Frasier walked over to her bed and sat down. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. "How long has this been happening, sweetie?" he asked her.

Roz tried to choke back her tears, but she found the task nearly impossible. "Three weeks," she finally admitted.


End file.
